The Black Queen
by grimpoet
Summary: The leader of the Kirin Tor is consumed by madness and will stop at nothing to make her enemies, real or imaginary, pay. I suck at summaries, please read and review.


_Evil, all are evil…_

_Kill the Impure ones…_

_Let the unworthy die…_

The voices echoed over and over again in the mind of the senior archmage. A cruel smirk twisted the once beautiful face of the Grand Archmage, Vaertana. Her once luxurious mane of raven-black hair now fell limply about her gaunt face; streaks of grey ran through her hair, a sign of premature aging. But the elven archmage didn't care. The only thing that mattered to her now was the task at hand. Her heavy black robes rippled about her as she made her way down the deserted corridor. Her feet making no sound on the marble floors as she surged forward. Tall windows flanked the hallway, allowing a breathtaking view of the surrounding city of Stormwind. Every so often, a flash of lightning would illuminate the dark hallway just before it was plunged into darkness once more. The corridor was long and she was constantly coming across turns and intersections. A few door lined the walls, sometimes there were even glass cases holding some kind of display. But the most remarkable thing about the complex that she now made her way through was the ceiling. The ceiling stretched up tens of metres and it was made of glass. But the most remarkable thing about the ceiling was the magical forces that were constantly at play here. Powerful illusion magics constantly held different projections in place here, the images in question were decided upon the whim of the master of the complex, it currently showed flames of differing sizes hanging suspended in the air, all of the same black color. The illusions could extend throughout the entire hallway but the current mistress of the building preferred to keep the illusions out of her way.

As she wound her way through the hallways, the floor began to steepen, she was moving downwards. Also as she moved down, the hallways began to appear less luxurious. Not only were the glass display cases becoming few and far between, but the glass ceiling vanished, to be replaced by a ceiling of black stone. The walls and floors began to change from the white stone and blue marble from the rooms above to the same black stone. Finally, Vaertana made her way to a black stone door, nearly invisible on the matching wall. With a wave of her hand, the massive door swung open to reveal a massive cylindrical room made of the same black stone as the corridors behind her. A wide staircase led down along the side of the room to the distant floor. Vaertana conjured a simple spell of protection on the door before making her way down the stairs. Massive shadows flickered across the walls of the room as she made her way down to the bottom. The room was illuminated from below by an eerie green light. She reached the bottom of the stairs and walked over to the source of the green light. A massive orb stood atop a stout stone pedestal. The orb was lit from within by a green light and black shadows danced across its surface. The old archmage placed her long, tapering fingers on either side of the orb. What she attempted now was only a fraction of the orb's potential. Vaertana closed her eyes and muttered a strange series of words. The words had a sense of evil and old magic about them, to a normal person, this would have been intolerable, but to Vaertana, the words were like music to her ears. As she finished the incantation, the sound of stone rubbing against stone could be heard and the room's curved wall moved to the side, revealing a massive cavern. Vaertana stepped forward, an expression of utmost glee filling her features, but it was an unsettling sort of glee, one that revealed the madness taking place within.

_It is time…_

_Time…_

"Yes, I do believe that it is time" muttered Vaertana under her breath.

The massive cavern before her was daunting to say the least. It could have easily held an army comfortably. But the peculiar thing about it was that it was not far enough below the earth to allow a room of its size to exist without showing some sort of sign of its presence to outdoor observers. The reason for that was that the room existed extra-dimensionally, meaning that a powerful spell had allowed its existence.

Vaertana made her way over to the only remarkable aspect of the room, a large altar draped with a black cloth. Four objects were placed in a row on the altar. Upon first glances, the objects appeared to be nothing more than large jewels polished to a gleaming sheen. Upon closer inspection, the gems were revealed to actually be the scales of some massive reptilian beast, in other words, a dragon. One was the scale of a massive green scaled dragon, another of a blue, the third was that of a black and the last was from a bronze dragon. Vaertana ran her fingers down each in turn, caressing each gently, almost lovingly. She then reached into the folds of her black robes and pulled out a fifth scale, this one red, and placed it with the others. The scales resonated with an ancient power, a power unmistakably that of the five dragon Aspects. Then, suddenly, she became colder, more business-like. She snapped her fingers and a shape began approaching her from the darkness. Vaertana moved around the altar to await it on the opposite side. As the shape entered the radius of the light illuminated by the orb from the room behind her, it revealed itself to be a massive slab of vertical metal. Upon the slab, held in place by heavy chains, was an Eredar warlock. Culled from its home plane by Vaertana, the warlock was struggling to free itself from its bonds, all-the-while mouthing curses at the archmage, a spell blocking any actual sounds. The creature drew level with Vaertana and she made a brief hand gesture. An invisible force slowly pried the demon's hand from the slab and presented it to the archmage. Vaertana brought the side of her right hand down onto the palm of her left hand. Almost immediately, the hand of the demon was severed, leaving only a bloody stump. Taking care not to get any of the foul green liquid that passed for blood for the creature on her person, Vaertana made her way back over to the other side of the altar. She snapped her fingers and the demon retreated to the edge of the illumination, still barely visible.

_If it works on the demon, then it will work on them…_

Vaertana saw the logic in the words of the voices. She waved her free hand over the bloody appendage and it began to float above her outstretched palm. Then she began the incantation. The words were similar to those spoken earlier by the archmage at the green orb. At the same time, she began moving her hands around the appendage, always taking care to keep her palms facing the hand. Slowly but surely, tendrils of black energy began reaching forth from her fingertips and began probing the hand. After a few moments of that, the tendrils plunged themselves into the hand and were soon coursing with energy. The foul magic inherent in the warlock's hands was being sucked into the archmage. Then, when the hand was sucked dry, it was from the warlock itself that the magic coursed. When Vaertana finished, all that was left of the demon was a dried out husk, and yet, somehow, he still lived. For a few seconds, Vaertana marvelled at the power running through her veins. She yearned to test her new powers and sought out the closest test subject, the demon. The archmage raised one hand and pointed at the demon. A bolt of red lightning surged from her finger and raced towards the demon. The bolt collided with the demon, engulfing his body in fell flames, killing him instantly. Vaertana then threw her head back and began to laugh a deep, maniacal laugh.

Vaertana then turned her attention to the scales. She gently raised one, that of the black dragon, Neltharion. She had to be careful about this, she reminded herself. Too much power could rip apart her fragile human form. She would do this one at a time, absorbing the power of one Aspect at a time. As she lifted the scale above her palm much as she had done with the demon's hand, she realised that this would not work if the stories were true and Neltharion truly was dead. Pushing such uncertainties aside, Vaertana occupied herself with the work at hand. As before, the black tendrils probed the scale. This time however, the tendrils had a much tougher time taking hold. However, Vaertana had a patience borne of madness and would not give up so easily. After sometime, Vaertana's efforts came to fruition and she was rewarded with a rush of magical energy. The power was exhilarating; it filled every fibre of her being. It was like a drug. It made her the happiest she had ever felt and yet still she yearned for more. But when she felt the pressure, like a balloon filled with almost filled to bursting, did she realise that she should stop. Luckily, she didn't have to stop it voluntarily. She felt the power of the distant Aspect ebbing and realise that she had tapped that source. The link faded and died and the tendrils retracted. As she made her way from the massive cavern, her eyes were lit from within by a terrible black energy. Now they would pay, now they would all pay. She would show them all that Grand Archmage Vaertana Windrunner was not someone to be trifled with.


End file.
